The bees are buzzing past me,
the wind is rushing the the trees,
I feel the thorn prickle,
and the peacefulness in the breeze.
The bark of the trees are so textured,
but yet so rough.
The bark is delicate,
but yet so tough.
I so yearn to see the wind that’s coming through me.
I hear the cracking sound of a tree,
and the screeching sound of a bird above me.
The cracking sound goes on,
and strikes fear into me,
for I am not a bird who can fly away,
nor am I an animal who scatter away,
and yet I still stay.
Now the sun is flying over me,
I feel the warmth inside,
and I realize how lucky I am to live a nature life!
This poem was written in the comox swamp, here’s a link to some pictures of me and my classmates in the forest!(I think they should rename it, it’s not like a swamp at all!!!!)